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“Dylan.” He spoke slowly, treating Dylan like an easily spooked animal, and put his hands on Dylan’s shoulders. “The team owns the apartment. I can leave any time. I would love”—the only safe place for that word was for the things connected to Dylan but not the man himself—“to move in with you.”

His whole face lit up. A gummy smile with those eye crinkles, his someone-just-scored or Briggs-got-a-shutout or we-made-the-playoffs smile. The smile, the one he’d probably find on those old photos of Dylan after he won the Cup a decade ago. And all because Henri said he’d move in with him.

“Really?”

Henri wanted to point out that he basically already did live here. It’d actually make things easier to do it officially, and he had no particular attachment to the apartment. He’d stayed there because it was convenient, and it’d be a clean break if he had to change teams.

(There’d be no clean breaks with Dylan regardless of where he lived, so might as well enjoy the time together. The days or weeks or months. There was no use thinking in terms of years.)

But none of that mattered. Because even if this were the worst, least practical decision in the world, Henri would dive in headfirst.

“Yes, really. You can help me pack tomorrow? And I’ll let the team know I don’t need it anymore.”

“Tomorrow,” Dylan agreed. He leaned forward and kissed Henri. Then the uncertainty was back. “Do you…want to pick out a space?”

Dylan didn’t have that many clothes, and they wore almost the same size. As long as there was room in his giant closet for Henri to hang up his suits, he’d stuff the rest into whatever dresser drawers were less full. He’d already somewhat taken over one.

Henri shrugged. “I don’t care.” He tried to pull Dylan in for another kiss, but he dodged it, and Henri was left with his cheek instead of his lips.

“I think the closest guest room would probably make the most sense, but if you wanted a different one, we could make it work.”

Henri had been about to try again for a kiss, but froze. “You’re making me move into a guest room?” he asked. He hoped this was an English-misunderstanding, otherwise this felt like a huge downgrade from their current arrangement. He’d rather have a neglected room in an apartment that was technically his than a guest room in Dylan’s house. It felt so liminal, so temporary.

“Making?” Dylan shook his head. “I figured you’d want your own space. I have the rooms.”

Despite hating to do it, Henri put his hands on Dylan’s chest and made him take a step back. Not too far, barely arm’s length, but enough to give him space to think.

“I sleep here most of the time we’re in town,” Henri said. “In your bed. With you. If I wanted my own space, I would go to my apartment. Why wouldn’t I just stay in your room? Do you not want⁠—”

“I want,” Dylan quickly interrupted. “I really want. You. In my house, and my room, and my bed. But I thought…” He took a deep breath and threw his head back in a groan. “Sorry, this is leftover Alexei garbage, I think,” he said to the ceiling. He stayed like that for a few more moments before lowering his head. With his chin tucked against his chest, he looked so young and embarrassed. “Couples normally share a bedroom.”

“Usually,” Henri confirmed. “Not always, but that would be my preference.”

Dylan took a tentative half-step forward; when Henri let him, he took another. Henri slid his arms around Dylan’s waist when he was close enough, resting his head in the crook of his neck.

“I’m keeping the right side of the bed,” Henri said. “It’s closer to the bathroom.”

Dylan hugged him back and laughed. “Whatever you want, Hen.” He squeezed him so tightly it almost hurt. “I’d give you the whole fucking bed and sleep on the floor if that’s what it took.”

“Luckily for you, I prefer you in the bed.”

CHAPTER 67

abqturkeytalk (April 8, 2024): Only three games left in the regular season! Our last home game is this Wednesday against the Chicago Storm. If the Turkeys can win two of their last games, they can secure Third in the Central Division!

↪ turkeytalk: Fun fact! The Storm are clinging onto a Wildcard spot for dear life. They need to win both of their remaining games AND need both Portland and Nevada to lose their last two games, otherwise they’re out. So if the Turkeys win…that’s the final nail in the coffin for Chicago.

↪ gobblegoals: ohhh nooooooooo wouldn’t that be terrible if we personally could end their playoff hopes???

Alexei (April 2024)

Drinks after game?

Dylan

You still an asshole?

I was never asshole